Hello, dear readers, and welcome to another chapter of HP: Path of Trials! I have to say, I'll be looking forward to posting what remains of this book because, once this is complete, there will be only a few more books remaining. Before I forget...

Disclaimer: Marcwill90 + Harry Potter = No Ownership (Though I do own the OCs)

With that out of the way, here's...

Chapter 28: The Information Pool

Enjoy, everyone!

It was two days after the Second Task, while Marcus was taking a stroll with Cedric and Lorelei.

They were about to enter back into the castle when Marcus saw Fleur Delacour standing on the front steps, seeing Marcus and looking a bit worried.

"Fleur," said Marcus, having mixed feelings about seeing her.

"Mar-kees," stated Fleur, her voice trembling a bit.

"We'll see you later, Marcus," stated Cedric, walking back inside. Lorelei, not meeting Marcus' gaze, went back inside, as well.

"Are - are you feeling better?" Marcus asked.

"A leetle bit," stated Fleur. "Gabrielle is fine, too. She doesn't seem to remember anyzing."

"That's good," said Marcus. He then sighed and said, "Okay, I'm not going to beat around the bush anymore: Why did you give me the cold shoulder at the Second Task?"

Fleur looked to the ground and said, "I 'ad failed ze task, Mar-kees. I was too ashamed to have you near me. I didn't want you to associate yourzelf with a failure."

Marcus felt his anger rise as he stated, "Do you really think I would've given a crap about reputation, Fleur?! All I wanted was to ensure that you were okay. I wanted to cheer you up, I wanted you to smile again, reassure you that things were going to be okay!" He turned away and emitted a growl before saying, "Unbelievable, Fleur! I thought you knew me better than that!"

"Mar-kees!" Fleur said, approaching him. "I admit, I made a meestake! I wasn't thinking about your feelings, only mine! Forgeeve me, please!"

Fleur suddenly felt Marcus' arms around her, and she could hear his voice, though slight garbled.

"Just promise me you won't keep me at a distance, Fleur."

Marcus felt Fleur's hands cup his face, which tilted his eyesight to her face, her eyes starting to tear up.

"Never again, Mar-kees."

Fleur then passionately kissed Marcus, who was greatly relieved that he was able to get things back to normal.

She then took his right hand into her left hand, the both of them feeling like going on another stroll...


One of the best things about the aftermath of the second task was that everybody was very keen to hear details of what had happened down in the lake, which meant that Ron was getting to share Marcus' and Harry's limelight for once. Marcus noticed that Ron's version of events changed ever so slightly with every retelling. At first, he gave what seemed to be the truth; it tallied with Hermione's and Lorelei's stories, anyway: Dumbledore had put all the hostages into a bewitched sleep in Professor McGonagall's office, first assuring them that they would be quite safe, and would awake when they were back above the water. One week later, however, Ron was telling a thrilling tale of kidnap in which he struggled single-handedly against fifty heavily armed merpeople who had to beat him into submission before tying him up.

"But I had my wand hidden up my sleeve," he assured Padma Patil, who seemed to be a lot keener on Ron now that he was getting so much attention and was making a point of talking to him every time they passed in the corridors. "I could've taken those mer-idiots any time I wanted."

"What were you going to do, snore at them?" said Hermione waspishly. Unlike Ron's jubliant attitude in regards to second task, Hermione's attitude was nothing short of tetchy. Marcus couldn't blame her though; People had been teasing her to no end about being the thing that Viktor Krum would most miss.

Ron's ears went red, and thereafter, he reverted to the bewitched sleep version of events.

Marcus thought for sure that Lorelei would be teased for being the thing he would miss most, but it turned out that it wasn't such a big deal.

"Wonder why that is," Marcus asked Hermione when he told her about the circumstance.

"You really don't get it?" Hermione asked him.

"Well, I'd miss having her around for training, and things wouldn't be the same without her around, but -" He then noticed Hermione smirking, "-what?"

"Oh, nothing, Marcus," she told him with her own smirk.

As they entered March the weather became drier, but cruel winds skinned their hands and faces every time they went out onto the grounds. There were delays in the post because the owls kept being blown off course. The brown owl that Marcus and Harry used to send Sirius the date of the Hogsmeade weekend turned up at breakfast on Friday morning with half its feathers sticking up the wrong way; Harry had no sooner torn off Sirius's reply than it took flight, clearly afraid it was going to be sent outside again. Sirius's letter was almost as short as the previous one.

Be at stile at end of road out of Hogsmeade (past Dervish and Banges) at two o'clock on Saturday afternoon. Bring as much food as you can.

"He hasn't come back to Hogsmeade?" said Ron incredulously.

"It looks like it, doesn't it?" said Hermione.

"I can't believe him," said Harry tensely, "if he's caught..."

"Made it so far, though, hasn't he?" said Ron. "And it's not like the place is swarming with dementors anymore."

"That, and he's been avoiding authority figures for almost two years, so stop worrying, Harry," said Marcus.

Marcus was really glad that he was going to get to see Sirius, so much so that he approached the final lesson of the afternoon - double Potions - feeling considerably better than he usually did when descending the steps to the dungeons.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were standing in a huddle outside the classroom door with Pansy Parkinson's gang of Slytherin girls. All of them were looking at something Marcus couldn't quite see and sniggering heartily. Pansy's pug-like face peered excitedly around Goyle's back as Marcus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione approached.

"There they are, there they are!" she giggled, and the knot of Slytherins broke apart. Marcus saw that Pansy had a magazing in her hands - Witch Weekly. The moving picture on the front showed a curly-haired witch who was smiling toothily and pointing at a large sponge cake with her wand.

"You might find something to interest you in there, Granger!" Pansy said loudly, and she threw the magazine at Hermione, who caught it, looking startled. At that moment, the dungeon door opened, and Snape beckoned them all inside.

The four of them headed for a table at the back of the dungeon as usual. Once Snape had turned his back on them to write up the ingredients of today's potion on the blackboard, Hermione hastily rifled through the magazine under the desk. At last, in the center pages, Hermione found what they were looking for. Harry and Ron leaned in closer. A color photograph of Harry headed a short piece entitled:

Harry Potter's Secret Heartache

A boy like no other, perhaps - yet a boy suffering all the usual pangs of adolescence, writes Rita Skeeter. Deprived of love since the tragic demise of his parents, fourteen-year-old Harry Potter thought he had found solace in his steady girlfriend at Hogwarts, Muggle-born Hermione Granger. Little did he know that he would shortly be suffering yet another emotional blow in a life already littered with personal loss.

Miss Granger, a plain but ambitious girl, seems to have a taste for famous wizards that Harry alone cannot satisfy. Since the arrival at Hogwarts of Viktor Krum, Bulgarian Seeker and hero of the last World Quidditch Cup, Miss Granger has been toying with both boys' affections. Krum, who is openly smitten with the devious Miss Granger, has already invited her to visit him in Bulgaria over the summer holidays, and insists that he has "never felt this way about any other girl."

However, it might not be Miss Granger's doubtful natural charms that have captured these unfortunate boys' interest.

"She's really ugly," says Pansy Parkinson, a pretty and vivacious fourth-year student, "but she'd be well up to making a Love Potion, she's quite brainy. I think that's how she's doing it."

Love Potions are, of course, banned at Hogwarts, and no doubt Albus Dumbledore will want to investigate these claims. In the meantime, Harry Potter's well-wishers must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart on a worthier candidate.

"I told you!" Ron hissed at Hermione as she stared down at the article. "I told you not to annoy Rita Skeeter! She's made you out to be some sort of - of scarlet woman!"

Hermione stopped looking astonished and snorted with laughter. "Scarlet woman?" she repeated, shaking with suppressed giggles as she looked around at Ron.

"It's what my mum calls them," Ron muttered, his ear going red.

"If that's the best Rita can do, she's losing her touch," said Hermione, still giggling, as she threw Witch Weekly onto the empty chair beside her. "What a pile of old rubbish."

She looked over at the Slytherins, who were all watching her and Harry closely across the room to see if they had been upset by the article. Hermione gave them a sarcastic smile and a wave, and she, Marcus, Harry, and Ron started unpacking the ingredients they would need for their Wit-Sharpening Potion.

In regards to Rita Skeeter, Marcus was utterly confused. Earlier in the year, she seemed keen - no, eager - to try and get a story out of him. Yet, he hadn't even seen one horrendous story on him, even though she'd gone after practically everyone else around him. He wasn't one to look a gift unicorn in the mouth, but something had to be going on that he wasn't aware of.

"There's something funny, though," said Hermione ten minutes later, holding her pestle suspended over a bowl of scarab beetles. "How could Rita Skeeter have known...?"

"Known what?" said Ron quickly. "You haven't been mixing up Love Potions, have you?"

"Don't be stupid," Hermione snapped, starting to pound up her beetles again. "No, it's just...how did she know Viktor asked me to visit him over the summer?"

Marcus looked at Hermione in surprise, who blushed scarlet as she said this and determinedly avoided Ron's eyes.

"What?" said Ron, dropping his pestle with a loud clunk.

"He asked me right after he'd pulled me out of the lake," Hermione muttered. "After he'd got rid of his shark's head. Madam Pomfrey gave us both blankets and then he sort of pulled me away from the judges so they wouldn't hear, and he said, if I wasn't doing anything over the summer, would I like to -"

"And what did you say?" said Ron, who had picked up his pestle and was grinding it on the desk, a good six inches from his bowl, because he was looking at Hermione.

"And he did say he'd never felt the same way about anyone else," Hermione went on, going so red now that Marcus could almost feel the heat coming from her, "but how could Rita Skeeter have heard him? She wasn't there...or was she? Maybe she has got an Invisibility Cloak; maybe she sneaked onto the grounds to watch the second task.

"And what did you say?" Ron repeated, pounding his pestle down so hard that it dented the desk.

"Well, I was too busy seeing whether you, Marcus, Lorelei, and Harry were okay to -"

"Fascinating though your social life undoubtedly is, Miss Granger," said an icy voice right behind them, and all four of them jumped, "I must ask you not to discuss it in my class. Ten points from Gryffindor."

Much to Marcus' displeasure, Snape had glided over to their desk while they were talking. The whole class was now looking around at them; Malfoy took the opportunity to flash POTTER STINKS across the dungeon at Harry.

"Ah...reading magazines under the table as well?" Snape added, snatching up the copy of Witch Weekly. "A further ten points from Gryffindor...oh but of course..." Snape's black eyes glittered as they fell on Rita Skeeter's article. "Potter has to keep up with his press cuttings..."

The dungeon rang with the Slytherins' laughter, and an unpleasant smile curled Snape's thin mouth. It infuriated Marcus that Snape began to read the article aloud.

"'Harry Potter's Secret Heartache'...dear, dear, Potter, what's ailing you now? 'A boy like no other, perhaps...'"

Marcus could tell that Harry was getting heartily embarrassed, as he could almost feel the heat coming from his face. Snape was pausing at the end of every sentence to allow the Slytherins a hearty laugh. The article sounded ten times worse when read by Snape. Even Hermione was blushing scarlet now.

"'...Harry Potter's well-wishes must hope that, next time, he bestows his heart upon a worthier candidate.' How very touching," sneered Snape, rolling up the magazine to continued gales of laughter from the Slytherins. "Well, I think I had better separate the four of you, so you can keep your minds on your potions rather than on your tangled love lives. Weasley, you stay here. Miss Granger, over there, beside Miss Parkinson. Potter, Williams - that table in front of my desk. Move. Now."

Deeply enraged, Marcus packed his ingredients and his bag into his cauldron and took it to the front of the dungeon at the empty table with Harry. Snape followed, sat down at his desk and watched them unload their cauldrons. Determined not to look at Snape, Marcus resumed with his potion, trying his best not to let Snape get the better of him.

"All this press attention seems to have inflated your already overlarge head, Potter," said Snape quietly, once the rest of the class settled down again.

Harry didn't answer. Marcus knew Snape was trying to provoke him; he watched him try to do it before. No doubt he was hoping for an excuse to take a round of fifty points from Gryffindor before the end of the class.

"You boys might be laboring under the delusion that the entire wizarding world is impressed with the two of you," Snape went on, bringing about Marcus' attention. He was speaking so quietly that no one else could hear him. Marcus kept his eyesight on his class potion, even though it was practically finished. "But I don't care how many times your picture appears in the papers. To me, you both are nothing but nasty little boys who considers rules to be beneath him."

Marcus continued to fiddle around with his potion, fighting with a furious desire to cave the greasy git's face in.

"So I give you fair warning, boys," Snape continued in a softer and more dangerous voice, "pint-sized celebrities or not - if I catch either of you breaking into my office one more time -"

"We haven't been anywhere near your office!" said Harry angrily, dropping all manner of feigned deafness.

"Don't lie to me," Snape hissed, his fathomless black eyes boring into Harry's. "Boomslang skin. Gillyweed. Both come from my private stores, and I know who stole them."

Marcus was well aware that Gillyweed was what Harry used to complete the Second Task, and he found out shortly afterwards that Dobby stole it for him. However, he was caught off guard by the mentioning of boomslang skin. The last time he had any business with that ingredient was when Hermione stole it for their Polyjuice Potion back in their second year.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry lied coldly.

"You were out of bed on the night my office was broken into!" Snape hissed. "I know it, Potter! Now, Mad-Eye Moody might have joined your fan club, but I will not tolerate your behavior! One more nighttime stroll into my office, boys, and you will pay!"

"Right," said Harry coolly, turning back to his ginger roots. "I'll bear that in mind if I ever get the urge to go in there."

"Wouldn't hold your breath, if I were you," Marcus said in an even tone.

Snape's eyes flashed. He plunged a hand into the inside of his black robes. For one crazy second, Marcus thought he was going for his wand, instinctively getting ready to summon his own. However, he pulled out a familiar small crystal bottle of a completely clear potion.

"Do you know what this is, Potter?" Snape said, his eyes glittering dangerously again.

"No," said Harry.

"It is Veritaserum - a Truth Potion so powerful that three drops would have you spilling your innermost secrets for this entire class to hear," said Snape viciously. "Now, the use of this potion is controlled by very strict Ministry guidelines. But unless you both watch your steps, you might just find that my hand slips" - he shook the crystal bottle slightly - "right over your evening pumpkin juices. And then, Potter, Williams...then we'll find out whether you two've been in my office or not."

Marcus couldn't help but chuckle.

"Something funny, Williams?" Snape hissed dangerously.

"I've just been thinking that my pumpkin juice could use a little extra flavor," Marcus said with a smirk. "Perhaps I should alert the kitchens?"

Snape's eyes narrowed dangerously, but Marcus knew he couldn't do anything more.

There was a knock on the dungeon door.

"Enter," said Snape in his usual voice.

The class looked around as the door opened. Professor Karkaroff came in. Everyone watched him as he walked up toward Snape's desk. He was twisting his finger around his goatee and looking agitated.

"We need to talk," said Karkaroff abruptly when he had reached Snape. He seemed so determined that nobody should hear what he was saying that he was barely opening his lips; it was as though he were a rather poor ventriloquist. Marcus kept his eyes on his potion, but he was all ears.

"I'll talk to you after my lesson, Karkaroff," Snape muttered, but Karkaroff interrupted him.

"I want to talk now, while you can't slip off, Serverus. You've been avoiding me."

"After the lesson," Snape snapped.

Marcus used his peripheral vision at glance at the two of them. Karkaroff looked extremely worried, and Snape looked angry.

Karkaroff proceed to hover behind Snape's desk for the rest of the double period. He seemed intent on preventing Snape from slipping away at the end of class. Keen to hear what Karkaroff wanted to say, Marcus deliberately spilled the excess potion on the floor with two minutes left in class, giving him the excuse to duck behind his cauldron and mop up while the rest of the class moved noisily toward the door.

"What's so urgent?" he heard Snape hiss at Karkaroff.

"This," said Karkaroff, and Marcus, peering around the edge of his cauldron, saw Karkaroff pull up the left-hand sleeve of his robe and show Snape something on his inner forearm.

"The Dark Mark again?!" thought Marcus.

"Well?" said Karkaroff, still making every effort not to move his lips."Do you see? It's never been this clear, never since -"

"Put it away!" snarled Snape, his black eyes sweeping the classroom.

"But you must have noticed -" Karkaroff begain in an agitated voice.

"We can talk later, Karkaroff!" spat Snape. "Potter! Williams! What are you two doing?"

"Cleaning up, Professor," said Marcus innocently, the two of them straightening up and holding the sodden rags they were holding.

Karkaroff turned on his heel and strode out of the dungeon. He looked both worried and angry. Not wanting to remain alone with an exceptionally angry Snape, Marcus and Harry threw their books and ingredients back into their respective bags and left at top speed to tell Ron and Hermione what they had just witnessed.

They left the castle at noon the next day to find a weak silver sun shining down upon the grounds. The weather was milder than it had been all year, and by the time they arrvied in Hogsmeade, all four of them had taken off their cloaks and thrown them over their shoulders. Marcus was rather relieved by his good fortune. Fleur had lessons all day today and Lorelei's other friends practically dragged her with them in order to spend time with them, so he wasn't deterred. The only minor setback was that Twink had to come with him, so he was resting in his shirt pocket where no one could see him. The food Sirius had told them to bring was in Harry's bag, secretly put together by Blinky; he put a dozen chicken legs, a loaf of bread, and a flask of pumpkin juice from the kitchens.

They went into Gladrags Wizardwear to buy a present for Dobby, where they had fun selecting the most lurid socks they could find, including a pair patterned with flashing gold and silver stars, and another that screamed loudly when they became too smelly. Then, at half past one, they made their way up the High Street, past Dervish and Banges, and out toward the edge of the village.

Marcus had never been in this direction before. The winding lane leading them out into the wild countryside around Hogsmeade. The cottages were fewer here, and their gardens larger; they were walking toward the foot of the mountain in whose shadow Hogsmeade lay. Then they turned a corner and saw a stile at the end of the lane. Waiting for them, its front paws on the topmost bar, was a very large, shaggy black dog, which was carrying some newspapers in its mouth and looking very familiar...

"Hello, Sirius," said Harry when they had reached him.

The black dog sniffed Harry's bag eagrly, wagged its tail once, then turned and began to trot away from them across the scrubby patch of ground that rose to meet the rocky foot of the mountain. Marcus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione climbed over the stile and followed.

Sirius led them to the very foot of the mountain, where the ground was covered with boulders and rocks. It was easy for him, with his four paw, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione were soon out of breath. Marcus found it easy, thank to all of his training. They followed Sirius higher, up onto the mountain itself. For nearly half an hour they climbed a steep, winding, and stony path, following Sirius's wagging tail, sweating in the sun.

Then, at last, Sirius slipped out of sight, and when they reached the place where he had vanished, they saw a narrow fissure in the rock. They squeezed into it and found themselves in a cool, dimly lit cave. Tethered at the end of it, one end of his rope around a large rock, was Buckbeak the hippogriff. Half gray horse, half giant eagle, Buckbeak's orange eye flashed at the sight of them. All four of them bowed low to him, and after regarding them imperiously for a moment, Buckbeak bent his scaly front knees and allowed Hermione to rush forward and stroke his feathery neck. Marcus, however, was looking at the black dog, which had just turned into his godfather.

Sirius was wearing ragged gray robes; the same ones he had been wearing when he had appeared in the fire, and it was untidy and matted once more. He looked very thin.

"Chicken!" he said hoarsely after removing the old Daily Prophets from his mouth and throwing them down onto the cave floor.

As Harry pulled open the bag and handed over the bundle of chicken legs and bread, Marcus looked down to his shirt pocket and said, "All right, Twink, the coast is clear."

At once, the tiny, silver Star Child flew out of his shirt pocket and rested on his head.

"Thanks," said Sirius, opening it, grabbing a drumstick, sitting down on the cave floor and tearing off a large chunk with his teeth. "I've been living off rats mostly. Can't steal too much food from Hogsmeade; I'd draw attention to myself."

He grinned at Marcus, who said with a smile, "It's great to see you again, Sirius!"

"You as well, Marcus," he said. His eyes looked to Marcus' hair and said, "Is there something in your hair?"

"Ah, yes," said Marcus. "It's my Star Child. His name is Twink." He looked up and said, "Twink, this is my godfather, Sirius Black. Go on, say hi."

Twink slowly flew over to Sirius, who said, "Well, I'll be. An actual Star Child! You didn't tell me you had one!"

"There wasn't any room to bring him up in our last conversation," Marcus stated.

Twink looked at Sirius for a few more seconds, then smiled and hugged his cheek.

"My, he's awfully friendly," said Sirius with a smile.

"He's a pretty trusting Star Child," stated Marcus with a smirk.

Sirius then looked at Harry as Twink released his hug. Harry was reluctantly smiling.

"What're you doing here, Sirius?"

"Fulfilling my duty as godfather," Sirius replied, gnawing on the chicken bone in a very doglike way as Twink flew over to Marcus and rested in his hair. "Don't worry about it, I'm pretending to be lovable stray."

He was still grinning, but seeing the anxiety in Harry's face, said more seriously, "I want to be on the spot. Your last letter...well, let's just say things are getting fishier. I've been stealing the paper every time someone throws one out, and by the looks of things, I'm not the only one who's getting worried."

He nodded at the yellowing Daily Prophets on the cave floor, and Ron picked them up and unfolded them. Harry and Marcus, however, continued to look at Sirius.

"What if they catch you? What if you're seen?"

"You four and Dumbledore are the only ones around here who know I'm an Animagus," said Sirius, shrugging, and continuing to devour the chicken leg.

Ron nudged Marcus and Harry and passed them the Daily Prophets. There were two: The first bore the headline Mystery Illness of Bartemius Crouch, the second, Ministry Witch Still Missing - Minister of Magic Now Personally Involved.

Marcus looked at the story about Crouch, trying to pick up on something. Certain phrases stood out more than others: hasn't been seen in public since November...house appears deserted...St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries decline comment...Ministry refuses to confirm rumors of critical illness...

"They're making it sound like he's dying," said Harry slowly. "But he can't be that ill if he managed to get up here..."

"My brother's Crouch's personal assistant," Ron informed Sirius. "He says Crouch is suffering from overwork."

"Mind you, he did look ill, last time I saw him up close," said Harry slowly, still reading the story. "The night my name came out of the goblet..."

"Getting his comeuppance for sacking Winky, isn't he?" said Hermione, an edge to her voice. She was stroking Buckbeak, who was crunching up Sirius's chicken bones. "I bet he wishes he hadn't done it now - bet he feels the difference now she's not there to look after him."

"Hermione's obsessed with house-elves," Ron muttered to Sirius, casting Hermione a dark look. Sirius, however, looked interested.

"Crouch sacked his house-elf?"

"Yeah, at the Quidditch World Cup," said Harry, and he launched into the story of the Dark Mark's appearance, and Winky being found with Harry's wand clutched in her hand, and Mr. Crouch's fury. When Harry had finished, Sirius was on his feet again and had started pacing up and down the cave.

"Let me get this straight," he said after a while, brandishing a fresh chicken leg. "You first saw the elf in the Top Box. She was saving Crouch a seat, right?"

"Right," said the four of them together.

"But Crouch didn't turn up for the match?"

"No," said Harry. "I think he said he'd been too busy."

Sirius paced all around the cave in silence. Then he said, "Harry, did you check your pockets for your wand after you'd left the Top Box?"

"Erm..." Harry thought hard. "No," he said finally. "I didn't need to use it before we got in the forest. And then I put my hand in my pocket, and all that was in there were my Omnioculars." He stared at Sirius. "Are you saying whoever conjured the Mark stole my wand in the Top Box?"

"It's possible," said Sirius.

"Winky didn't steal that wand!" Hermione insisted.

"The elf wasn't the only one in that box," said Sirius, his brow furrowed as he continued to pace. "Who else was sitting behind you?"

"Loads of people," said Harry. "Some Bulgarian ministers...Cornelius Fudge..the Malfoys..."

"The Malfoys!" said Ron suddenly, so loudly that his voice echoed all around the cave, and Buckbeak started nervously. "I bet it was Lucius Malfoy!"

"Anyone else?" said Sirius.

"No one," said Harry.

"Yes, there was, there was Ludo Bagman," Hermione reminded him.

"Oh yeah..."

Marcus had been keeping himself silent so far, instead choosing to try and put the pieces together.

"I don't know anything about Bagman except that he used to be Beater for the Wimbourne Wasps," said Sirius, still pacing. "What's he like?"

"He's okay," said Harry. "He keeps offering to help me with the Triwizard Tournament."

"Does he, now?" said Sirius, frowning more deeply. "I wonder why he'd do that? Why not help Marcus as well?"

"Probably due to not wanting my father involved," remarked Marcus.

"Well, he says he's taking a liking to me," said Harry.

"Hmm," said Sirius, looking thoughtful.

"We saw him in the forest just before the Dark Mark appeared," Hermione told Sirius. "Remember?" she said to Harry and Ron.

"Yeah, but he didn't stay in the forest, did he?" said Ron. "The moment we told him about the riot, he went off to the campsite."

"How d'you know?" Hermione shot back. "How d'you know where he Disapparted to?"

"Come off it," said Ron increduously. "Are you saying you reckon Ludo Bagman conjured the Dark Mark?"

"It's more likely he did it than Winky," said Hermione stubbornly.

"Told you," said Ron, looking meaningfully at Sirius, "told you she's obsessed with house -"

But Sirius held up a hand to silence Ron.

"When the Dark Mark had been conjured, and the elf had been discovered holding Harry's wand, what did Crouch do?"

"Went to look in the bushes," said Harry, "but there wasn't anyone else there."

"Of course," Sirius muttered, pacing up and down," of course, he'd want to pin it on anyone but his own elf...and then he sacked her?"

"Yes," said Hermione in a heated voice, "he sacked her, just because she hadn't stayed in her tent and let herself get trampled -"

"Hermione, will you give it a rest with the elf!" said Ron.

Sirius shook his head and said, "She's got the measure of Crouch better than you have, Ron. If you want to know what a man's like, take a good look at how he treats his inferiors, not his equals."

He ran a hand over his unshaven face, evidently thinking hard.

"All these absences of Barty Crouch's...he goes to the trouble of making sure his house-elf saves him a seat at the Quidditch World Cup, but doesn't bother to turn up and watch. He works very hard to reinstate the Triwizard Tournament, and then stops coming to that too...It's not like Crouch. If he's ever taken a day off work because of illness before this, I'll eat Buckbeak."

"D'you know Crouch, then?" said Harry.

Sirius's face darkened. He suddenly looked as menacing as he had the night Harry first met Sirius, when Harry still believed him to be a murderer.

"Oh I know Crouch all right," he said quietly. "He was the one who gave the order for me to be sent to Azkaban - without a trial."

"What?" said Ron and Hermione together.

"You're kidding!" Marcus and Harry said at the same time.

"No, I'm not," said Sirius, taking another bite of chicken. "Crouch used to be Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, didn't you know?"

The four of them shook their heads.

"He was tipped for the next Minister of Magic," said Sirius. "He's a great wizard, Barty Crouch, powerfully magical - and power-hungry. Oh, never a Voldemort supporter," he said, reading the looks on Marcus' and Harry's faces. "No, Barty Crouch was always very outspoken against the Dark Side...well, you wouldn't understand...you're too young..."

"That's what my dad said at the World Cup," said Ron, with a trace of irritation in his voice. "Try us, why don't you?"

A grin flashed across Sirius's thin face.

"All right, I'll try you..." He walked once up the cave, back again, and then said, "Imagine that Voldemort's powerful now. You don't know who his supporters are, you don't know who's working for him and who isn't; you know he can control people so that they do terrible things without being able to stop themselves. You're scared for yourself, and your family, and your friends. Every week, news comes of more deaths, more disappearances, more torturing...the Ministry of Magic's in disarray, they don't know what to do, they're trying to keep everything hidden from the Muggles, but meanwhile, Muggles are dying too. Terror everywhere...panic..confusion...that's how it used to be.

"Well, times like that bring out the best in some people and the worst in others. Crouch's principles might've been good in the beginning - I wouldn't know. He rose quickly through the Ministry, and he started ordering very harsh measures against Voldemort's supporters. The Aurors were given new powers - power to kill rather than capture, for instance. And I wasn't the only one who was handed straight to the dementors without trial. Crouch fought violence with violence, and authorized the use of the Unforgivable Curses against suspects. I would say he became as ruthless and cruel as many on the Dark Side. He had his supporters, mind you - plenty of people thought he was going about things the right way, and there were a lot of witches and wizards clamoring for him take over as Minister of Magic. When Voldemort disappeared, it looked like only a matter of time until Crouch got the top job. But then something rather unfortunate happened..." Sirius smiled grimly. "Crouch's own son was caught with a group of Death Eaters who'd managed to talk their way out of Azkaban. Apparently they were trying to find Voldemort and return him to power."

"Crouch's son was caught?" gasped Hermione.

"Yep," said Sirius, throwing his chicken bone to Buckbeak, flinging himself back down on the ground beside the loaf of bread, and tearing it in half. "Nasty little shock for old Barty, I'd imagine. Should have spent a bit more time at home with his family, shouldn't he? Ought to have left the office early once in a while...gotten to know his own son."

He began to wolf down large pieces of bread.

"Was his son a Death Eater?" said Harry.

"No idea," said Sirius, still stuffing down bread. "I was in Azkaban myself when he was brought in. This is mostly stuff I've found out since I got out. The boy was definitely caught in the company of people I'd bet my life were Death Eaters - but he might have been in the wrong place at the wrong time, just like the house-elf."

"Did Crouch try and get his son off?" Hermione whispered.

Marcus gave off an almost silent cough of disbelief while Sirius let out a laugh that was much more like a bark.

"Crouch let his son off? I thought you had the measure of him, Hermione! Anything that threatened to tarnish his reputation had to go; he had dedicated his whole life to becoming Minister of Magic. You saw him dismiss a devoted house-elf because she associated him with the Dark Mark again - doesn't that tell you what he's like? Crouch's fatherly affection stretched just far enough to give his son a trial, and by all accounts, it wasn't much more than an excuse for Crouch to show how much he hated the boy...then he sent him straight to Azkaban."

"He gave his own son to the dementors?" asked Harry quietly.

"That's right," said Sirius, and he didn't look remotely amused now. "I saw the dementors bringing him in, watched them through the bars in my cell door. He can't have been more than nineteen. They took him into a cell near mine. He was screaming for his mother by nightfall. He went quiet after a few days, though...they all went quiet in the end...except when they shrieked in their sleep..."

For a moment, the deadened look in Sirius's eyes became more pronounced than ever, as though shutters had closed behind them.

"So he's still in Azkaban?" Harry said.

"No," said Sirius dully."no, he's not in there anymore. He died about a year after they brought him in."

"He died?"

"He wasn't the only one," said Sirius bitterly. "Most go mad in there, and plenty stop eating in the end. They lose the will to live. You could always tell when a death was coming, because the dementors could sense it, they got boy looked pretty sickly when he arrived. Crouch being an important Ministry member, he and his wife were allowed a deathbed visit. That was the last time I saw Barty Crouch, half carrying his wife past my cell. She died herself, apparently afterward. Grief. Wasted away just like the boy. Crouch never came for his son's body. The dementors buried him outside the fortress; I watched them do it."

Sirius threw aside the bread he had just lifted to his mouth and instead picked up the flask of pumpkin juice and drained it.

"So old Crouch lost it all, just when he thought he had it made," he continued, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "One moment, a hero, poised to become Minister of Magic...next, his son dead, his wife dead, the family name dishonored, and, so I've heard since I escaped, a big drop in popularity. Once the boy had died, people started feeling a bit more sympathetic toward the son and started asking how a nice young lad from a good family had gone so badly astray. The conclusion was that his father never cared much for him. So Cornelius Fudge got the top job, and Crouch was shunted sideways into the Department of International Magical Cooperation."

There was a long silence. Marcus rested with his face on his intertwined hands, deep in thought. It was certainly a lot of information to process, yet none of it was making any sense to the situation on hand.

"Moody says Crouch is obsessed with catching Dark wizards," Harry told Sirius.

"Yeah, I've heard it's become a bit of a mania with him," said Sirius, nodding. "If you ask me, he still thinks he can bring back the old popularity by catching one more Death Eater."

"And he sneaked up here to search Snape's office!" said Ron triumphantly, looking at Hermione.

"Yes, and that doesn't make sense at all," said Sirius.

"Yeah, it does!" said Ron excitedly, but Sirius shook his head.

"Listen, if Crouch wants to investigate Snape, why hasn't he been coming to judge the tournament? It would be an ideal excuse to make regular visits to Hogwarts and keep an eye on him."

"So you think Snape could be up to something, then?" asked Harry, but Hermione broke in.

"Look, I don't care what you say, Dumbledore trusts Snape -"

"Oh give it a rest, Hermione," said Ron impatiently. "I know Dumbledore's brilliant and everything, but that doesn't mean a really clever Dark wizard couldn't fool him -"

"Why did Snape save Harry's life in the first year, then? Why didn't he just let him die?"

"I dunno - maybe he thought Dumbledore would kick him out -"

"What d'you think, Sirius?" Harry said loudly, and Ron and Hermione stopped bickering to listen.

"I think they've both got a point," said Sirius, looking thoughtfully at Ron and Hermione. "Ever since I found out Snape was teaching here, I've wondered why Dumbledore hired him. Snape's always been fascinated by the Dark Arts, he was famous for it at school. Slimy, oily, greasy-haired kid, he was," Sirius added, and Marcus, Harry, and Ron all grinned at each other. "Snape knew more curses when he arrived at school than half the kids in seventh year, and he was part of a gang of Slytherins who nearly all turned out to be Death Eaters."

Sirius held up his fingers and began ticking off names.

"Rosier and Wilkes - they were both done in by Michael and Brynn the year before Voldemort fell. The Lestranges - they're a married couple - they're in Azkaban. Avery - from what I've heard he wormed his way out of trouble by saying he'd been acting under the Imperius Curse - he's still at large. But as far as I know, Snape was never even accused of being a Death Eater - not that it means much. Plenty of them were never caught. And Snape's certainly clever and cunning enough to keep himself out of trouble."

"Snape knows Karkaroff pretty well, but he wants to keep that quiet," said Ron.

"Yeah, you should've seen Snape's face when Karkaroff turned up in Potions yesterday!" said Harry quickly. "Karkaroff wanted to talk to Snape, he say Snape's been avoiding him. Karkaroff looked really worried. He showed Snape something on his arm, but I couldn't see what it was. Marcus, could you?"

Marcus shook his head.

"He showed Snape something on his arm?" said Sirius, looking frankly bewildered. He ran his fingers distractedly through his filthy hair, then shrugged again. "Well, I've no idea what that's about...but if Karkaroff's genuinely worried, and he's going to Snape for answers..."

Sirius stared at the cave wall, then made a grimace of frustration.

"There's still the fact that Dumbledore trusts Snape, and I know Dumbledore trusts where a lot of other people wouldn't, but I just can't see him letting Snape teach at Hogwarts if he'd ever worked for Voldemort."

"Why are Moody and Crouch so keen to get into Snape's office then?" said Ron stubbornly.

"Well," said Sirius slowly, "I wouldn't put it past Mad-Eye to have searched every single teacher's office when he got to Hogwarts. He takes his Defense Against the Dark Arts seriously, Moody. I'm not sure he trusts anyone at all, and after the things he's seen, it's not surprising. I'll say this for Moody, though, he never killed if he could help it. Always brought people in alive where possible. He was tough, but he never descended to the level of the Death Eaters. Crouch, though...he's a different matter...is he really ill? If he is, why did he make the effort to drag himself up to Snape's office? And if he's not..what's he up to? What was he doing at the World Cup that was so important he didn't turn up in the Top Box? What's he been doing while he should have been judging the tournament?"

He then turned to Marcus and said, "You've been rather quiet this whole time, Marcus. Care to say anything?"

"Well..." Marcus said. "I can really only say two things that I know for sure. One: Whatever's going on, whoever's trying to go after Harry and I, Bagman and Snape have no part in it. It's a waste of time suspecting them. Two: We're running out of time, plain and simple."

Sirius kept silent, choosing to instead stare at the cave wall. Buckbeak was ferreting around on the rocky floor, looking for bones he might have overlooked. Finally, Sirius looked up at Ron.

"You say your brother's Crouch's personal assistance? Any chance you could ask him if he's seen Crouch lately?"

"I can try," said Ron doubtfully. "Better not make it sound like I reckon Crouch is up to anything dodgy, though. Percy loves Crouch."

"And you might try and find out whether they've got any leads on Bertha Jorkins while you're at it," said Sirius, gesturing to the second copy of the Daily Prophet.

"Bagman told me they hadn't," said Harry.

"Yes, he's quoted in the article in there," said Sirius, nodding at the paper. "Blustering on about how bad Bertha's memory is. Well, maybe she's changed since I knew her, but the Bertha I knew wasn't forgetful at all - quite the reverse. She was a bit dim, but she had an excellent memory for gossip. It used to get her into a lot of trouble; she never knew to keep her mouth shut. I can see her being a bit of a liability at the Ministry of Magic...maybe that's why Bagman didn't bother to look for her for so long..."

Sirius heaved an enormous sigh and rubbed his shadowed eyes.

"What's the time?"

"It's half past three," said Hermione.

"You'd better get back to school," Sirius said, getting to his feet. "Now listen..." He looked particularly hard at Marcus and Harry. "I don't want you lot sneaking out of school to see me, all right? Just send notes to me here. I still want to hear about anything odd. But you're not to go leaving Hogwarts without permission; it would be an ideal opportunity for someone to attack you."

"No one's tried to attack us so far, except a dragon and a couple of grindylows," Harry said.

"And merpeople, in my case," stated Marcus.

Sirius scowled at them.

"I don't care...I'll breathe freely again when this tournament's over, and that's not until May. And don't forget, if you're talking about me among yourselves, call me Snuffles, okay?"

He handed Harry the empty napkin and flask and went to pat Buckbeak good-bye. "I'll walk to the edge of the village with you," said Sirius, "see if I can scrounge another paper."

Marcus tapped Twink, knowing he fell asleep earlier, and said, "Twink, time to wake up. We're leaving, so get inside my shirt pocket."

Once Twink got into his shirt pocket, Sirius transformed into the great black dog and they left the cave, walking back down the mountain with him, across the boulder-strewn ground, and back to the stile. Here he allowed each of them to pat him on the head, before turning and setting off at a run around the outskirts of the village. Marcus, Harry, Ron, and Hermione made their way back into Hogsmeade and up toward Hogwarts.

"Wonder if Percy knows all that stuff about Crouch?" Ron said as they walked up the drive to the castle. "But maybe he doesn't care...it'd probably just make him admire Crouch even more. Yeah, Percy loves rules. He'd just say Crouch was refusing to break them for his own son."

"Percy would never throw any of his family to the dementors," said Hermione severely.

"I don't know," said Ron. "If he thought we were standing in the way of his career...Percy's really ambitious, you know..."

Marcus knew that he'd have to spend more time processing all of this information and try to see what could be pieced together. Certainly, the main focus was on Crouch, but to try and solve that mystery would require more information, information in which he simply didn't have the time to try and acquire.

They walked up the stone steps into the entrance hall, where the delicious smells of dinner wafted toward them from the Great Hall.

"Poor old Snuffles," said Ron, breathing deeply. "He must really like you, Marcus and Harry...Imagine having to live off rats."

And this concludes another chapter of HP: Path of Trials! Please feel free to leave a review on the story, as this will help me become a better writer. Also, if you have any questions for me, please don't hesitate to leave me a PM and, I promise, I will answer your questions to the best of my ability! Until then, keep your eyes peeled for the next chapter of HP: Path of Trials!